


I've Got Your Back

by twinsarein



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Established Relationship, M/M, Rimming
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2010-10-31
Updated: 2010-10-31
Packaged: 2017-10-13 00:29:32
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,108
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/130808
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/twinsarein/pseuds/twinsarein
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Sam and Dean get locked in a very small, dark room, and Sam panics thinking he's back in the cage. Dean calms him down.</p>
            </blockquote>





	I've Got Your Back

**Author's Note:**

> Spoilers for the S5 finale and all of S6, up to 6x05

"Hey, mister?"

Looking down, Dean spies a young child, who can't be more than six or seven, dressed as a cowboy. "What do you want, kid?"

"Aren't you too old to be trick-or-treating?"

Looking at the kid nonplussed for a second, Dean remembers the pillowcase he's holding that's filled with their salt 'n' burn stuff. He looks over at the house they're in front of. The house that's supposed to hold the remains of the ghost haunting it. Then, he looks back at Sam, who shrugs his massive shoulders. Finally, Dean looks back at the kid with a small, lopsided smile. "You're never too old for candy, pardner."

Nodding solemnly, the kid looks Dean over, and then cranes his neck Dean to look at Sam. "So, what're you both supposed to be?"

Jerking a thumb over his shoulder, Dean smirks as he says, "That's Bigfoot back there, and I'm James Dean."

The kid gets a confused look on his face. "Who?"

Opening his mouth to explain, Dean snaps it closed when Sam bumps his shoulder. Right. Their salt 'n' burn. "Hey, kid, hadn't you better get going? All the best candy will be gone if you don't."

An alarmed look crosses the kid's face. "Right! Bye, misters."

Dean watches the kid run down the sidewalk, checking to make sure he doesn't look back to see where he and Sam are heading. The last thing they need is a curious kid following them into a real haunted house. "Cute kid."

"Yeah, Dean, sure. Let's just get going."

"What's got your knickers in a knot? It's not like the ghost is going anywhere."

"First - knickers, Dean? Really? Second, I just want to get this over with. Alphas are coming out of the woodwork, so I hate wasting our time on a haunting. It's not like ghosts have an Alpha; they're just dead people too afraid to move on."

Opening his mouth to reprimand his brother, Dean snaps it closed, and starts up the walkway to the house. "Whatever. C'mon then, let's get this done."

The key is right where the owner said it would be, and Dean lets them in. He flips the light switch, but nothing happens. "Damn it! Why do we always have to do these things in the dark?"

"Awww, is widdle Dean afwaid of the dark, now?"

"Fuck you, Sam. It would just be nice, for once, to do this in plenty of light." Dean reaches into his bag and pulls out a flashlight for each of them, and an iron pipe. "Let's do it."

Separating, Sam heads upstairs, and Dean starts searching the ground floor. He goes from room to room, quickly but methodically. He's found nothing by the time Sam clomps back downstairs. "Anything?"

"Nope. My flashlight gave out, although, not until I was about done. In any case, I found diddly squat in the way of remains."

"Diddly squat? Did you really just say that?" Shaking his head at the bitchface Sam sends him, Dean gestures with his flashlight to the door he's standing in front of. "This is the only place I haven't searched. If we don't find anything in here, we'll go back and strangle the dude who sent us on this wild goose chase."

Grabbing the doorknob, Dean grunts as he opens a door that's much heavier than he'd thought it would be. Striding in, he shines his flashlight around, and stops when he sees the contours of the room. "Whoa, this isn't--" Dean breaks off when Sam bumps into him from behind. In the sudden silence, its easy to hear the door close behind them, and the ominous double click it gives as it does so.

Continuing to shine his flashlight around, Dean can see the room is barely big enough for him and Sam to stand abreast of each other, and he seriously doubts if Sam could lie down straight. Luckily, the ceiling is as high as any other first floor room in this house.

Reaching out, Dean runs a fingernail down a wall, and a distinct metallic smell is released. "Iron. The whole fucking room is lined in iron. Either this dude thought Superman was after him, or he gets a real hard-on in believing he's being haunted. Because if this house has a ghost in it, then I really am James Dean."

Turning, his mouth pulling up in a small smile, Dean's about to ask why Sam hadn't called him on Superman not being able to see through lead, not iron, when he gets a look at his brother's face. "Sam? What is it? What's wrong?"

Sam is standing frozen, eye wide with a lot of white showing, mouth open on shallow, quick breaths. Getting right in Sam's face, Dean grasps both of his brother's biceps and give a small shake. When that doesn't get a response, he shakes a little harder.

"C'mon, Sam! Snap out of it." Dean uses his best older brother voice, and it seems to work. Sam blinks a couple of times, then looks around and focuses on Dean, a shudder working its way through his large frame.

Taking a deep, gasping breath, Sam whirls out of Dean's hold and scrambles for the door. Dean can hear the rattle the knob makes as Sam twists it back and forth. "It won't open! Why won't it open?"

Sam starts punching the door, and Dean rushes to stop him. "Stop it! You're going to hurt yourself."

Sam twists and shoves at Dean, sending him stumbling backwards. Dean manages to keep his feet, but another blow to his arm sends the flashlight sailing through the air to crash against the back wall.

When the light hits the floor, the room is suddenly plunged into complete darkness. "Damn it, Sam! C'mon and calm the hell down."

"Hell! I'm back in Hell. In the pit, in the cage. Why? Let me out. Let me out!" The last words escalate to a howl of pain and fear that raises all the hair on the back of Dean's neck.

Arms stretched out in front of himself, Dean moves slowly forward until he connects with Sam. Sam explodes into motion, and shoves Dean away so hard that he thuds into the wall, almost tripping and falling when his foot hits his ruined flashlight.

Dean can hear Sam breathing hard. Sharp, high, breathy sounds that show how panicked his younger brother is. "Sam, its alri--"

Cut off when Sam reaches out and grabs onto him, Dean grapples with his brother, until he sweeps out the taller man's feet from under him. When Sam goes to the floor, Dean makes sure to fall on top of him, knocking Sam's breath out with an elbow to the solar plexus.

While Sam struggles to get his breath back, Dean leans over him and peppers his face with kisses, interspersing them with words of comfort. "You aren't back in hell, Sammy. You're alright. You aren't in the cage. Nothing is wrong. You're here with me. Just listen to my voice. I was never in that place with you, so you couldn't be hearing my voice if you were back there. It's okay, Sammy."

Slowly, Sam's breathing calmed, mostly returning to normal. Dean can still hear a hitch a couple of times a minute, but Sam definitely has control of himself. Dean presses a few more kisses to his brother's face, and then just brushes their lips together before pulling back.

Making sure to keep a hand on Sam's reclining form, Dean gets to his feet. Then, he slides his hand down to grasp Sam's. "Okay, Sam. On your feet. It'll make you feel better to have them under you."

Pulling Sam up with one hand, Dean claps him on the shoulder with the other one. "You going to be okay, Sammy?"

"I-I don't...don't know. I...Dean...I can't...I can't get out. I have to get out, Dean!"

"Okay, Sam. Okay. Let's see what we can do." Trying to keep his voice as soothing as possible, Dean strokes down Sam's arm. "Maybe there's a catch to unlock the door."

After several fruitless minutes of searching, Dean can hear Sam's panic escalating again. Letting the sound of his heavy breaths guide him, Dean puts himself right in Sam's personal space and searches out his lips. Moving slowly, Dean brushes their mouths together, taking Sam's bottom lip between his teeth and nibbling and sucking on it.

It's been too long since Dean has felt his brother's lips against his. He's missed it so much, and its tempting to keep going right now, but there's something else to try. Breaking off, Dean rests his forehead against Sam's, and reaches into his pants to get his cell phone. Popping it open activates the light, and Sam takes a deep, shuddering breath. Dean punches in Bobby's number, and waits through a few rings.

"What do you need, Dean?"

Dean considers giving Bobby a hard time about phone etiquette, but a hitch in Sam's breathing convinces him to just cut to the chase. "We got locked in a small room, Bobby. We need someone to come get us out."

"You idjits! I think you two should have a keeper. How in the hell did you get locked in a room, and why can't you just break down the door or smash a window.?"

"C'mon, Bobby. Give us some credit. It was an accident. It's a panic room lined with iron, and has no windows. There's a knob on this side, but no lock to pick. We've looked for a secret latch, but we're in complete darkness and can't find one if it exists."

A whimper stops Dean momentarily, and he reaches out to find Sam's whole body wracked with shivers. "C-cold. So c-cold down h-here. Why is i-it cold in h-hell."

"Shit! Please, Bobby. Come let us out, and hurry. Sam isn't doing too well in here."

There's silence on the other end of the line, so brief as to almost be missed, and he almost sees the lightbulb go off in Bobby's head when he gets it. "Damn! Alright, boy. I'll be there as quick as I can. Where are you?" Dean tells him, and more colorful swearing comes down the line. "That's hours away, Dean. I won't get there until just before dawn, and it's only just past midnight, now. What will you do to keep him calm?"

"Don't you worry about that, Bobby. I've got it covered. Just get here." Snapping his phone closed, Dean turns to Sam, reaching out with his hands first. When he connects with Sam's body, Dean slides his hands up and into the mop of long hair and holds tight.

Using his grip, Dean tilts Sam's head and kisses him more thoroughly than earlier, rubbing his hands up and down Sam's arms before pulling back. "Bobby's on his way, Sam. It's going to be okay. I'm here with you, and you'll be fine. I won't let anything happen to you."

Starting to unbutton Sam's shirt, Dean is frustrated that he can't touch skin because of the t-shirt Sam has on too. However, he tries to let his hands brush against Sam as much as possible, so his brother can feel what's happening. "W-what are you doing? You said Bobby was coming."

Dean didn't need any more proof as to how panicked Sam still was, even if he was acting calmly. "Bobby lives a state away. You know that. It'll take him hours to get here."

Sam's breathing starts to get erratic again, so Dean slips a hand under the t-shirt, and places it over Sam's frantically beating heart. "Don't, Sam. Calm down. You'll be okay."

Moving his hand just a little, Dean rubs over a nipple. Sam's gasp is music to his ears, and when Dean pinches around it, Sam slaps a hand against a wall that's closer than Dean realized.

When he moves to unbutton the rest of the shirt, though, Sam stops him again. "You...you don't have to, Dean. I don't need a pity fuck."

"A pity...you stupid shit. I've never pitied you, and I don't now. I want you, Sam. So much. Reach down and feel, if you don't believe me."

"But..."

'Yeah, I want to help distract you, but it's been a year. More than. And sure, I missed my brother. But I missed my lover, too. Missed the feel of you; missed having you under me. Unless you don't want this, then don't stop me again. Just close your eyes, and feel."

Assuming Sam's compliance when he hears no objection, Dean resumes his exploration of Sam's chest. At the same time, he reaches out a hand until he's sure of where the wall is, and then pushes until Sam's back is resting against it. Deciding not to mess with any more buttons, he works the shirts over Sam's head. Sam lifts his arms, and Dean starts sliding them off, only to stop halfway up. Effectively trapping Sam's arms.

Sam's moan isn't panicked at all, and Dean searches out one of Sam's nipples with his mouth, sliding his lips over muscles even harder than they'd been a year ago. Sam moans again when Dean's lips move over an already pebbled nipple.

Taking the nub of flesh between his teeth, Dean bites down gently, and then soothes the sting with his teeth. He sucks on it while his free hand discovers the other nipple and rolls it between two of his fingers.

Sam jerks against him and tries to bring his hands down. Dean uses his weight and the leverage he has by not being constrained to push Sam back and keep him where he wants him. Once he's made his point, he does bring Sam's arms down until they're behind his back, still trapped in the shirts and now trapped against the wall, as well. The move has the benefit of arching Sam's chest out.

Dean sucks more forcefully on the nipple that's thrust harder into his mouth. Releasing it after another minute or so with a wet sounding pop. Only to slide over and take the other one in his mouth. He gives it the same treatment as the first, and then switches hands as well, so he can pinch and roll the moist nipple he'd left behind.

Taking his time, Dean goes back and forth, feeling them get more swollen under his mouth and fingers. He doesn't let up, though. There's no hurry, and he remembers how sensitive Sam's nipples are. How out of control his brother can get from just this. Sam's breath is coming faster now, and Dean can feel his heartbeat accelerating, but this time neither is happening because of panic.

"Dean! Please, Dean."

"Please what, Sammy?" Dean doesn't really have to ask, but he likes it when Sam's voice gets husky and deep with lust. Like it when he begs. He can feel Sam's hips thrusting into the air, Dean standing in such a way that Sam can't rub against him.

"I want more. Please. On my dick. Your mouth, your hand. I don't care. Please, Dean."

Taking pity on his younger brother, Dean slowly sinks to his knees, licking his way down Sam's stomach as he toes. Continuing to mouth along the sculpted planes of Sam's abdomen, Dean makes short work of Sam's belt and pants. Tugging them down to the larger man's knees when he's done.

Turning his head, Dean rubs his cheek over the soft cotton of Sam's underwear. He can feel Sam's cock straining against the fabric, and Dean opens his mouth and presses it over the crown. Sucking just a little. Sam's moan makes Dean's cock give a surge in his own, still fastened, pants. However, he ignores it to concentrate on Sam.

Slipping his fingers past the elastic, Dean starts to tug Sam's underwear down very slowly. No more than an inch of skin is revealed at a time. Turning his head a little to the side, Dean mouths down Sam's erection as more skin is bared.

Feeling Sam's legs beginning to shake, Dean moves one arm up, and presses it across Sam's stomach, helping to keep him upright. Finally freeing his brother's erection completely, Dean licks back up to the head, and opens his mouth around it, letting it slide in.

It's been a while since he's done this, but Dean's glad he hasn't lost any of his skill. He moves his mouth up and down as much of Sam's shaft as he can comfortably take. His movements are slow and steady, wanting to prolong the pleasure as much as possible.

As Dean moves his mouth, he swirls his tongue around the flesh filling him up, and licks at the slit every time he pulls back to the crown. Each time he sucks Sam dick back in, Dean incrementally works his way further down the long, thick shaft in his mouth.

Getting lost in the feel and the taste of having Sam in his mouth after so long, Dean completely loses track of time. Loses himself in the slow motions, in the fullness in his mouth, in relearning all of Sam's textures. Such as the prominent vein running the length of Sam's hard dick.

Dean had always enjoyed feeling that pressed against his tongue. He's finding that he still does. Same with how wide Sam's dick stretches his mouth as he gets close to the root. Dean is so lost in it all, that it's a surprise when he feels the hairs around the base of Sam's cock tickle his cheeks.

Not letting the surprise stop him for long, Dean swallows around the fullness in his mouth over and over, wanting to get it as deep as possible. He can feel Sam shaking against him, hear his brother gasping above him, taste him even more vividly as precome surges from the tip.

Putting more weight against the arm across Sam's stomach, Dean trails his other hand between Sam's legs. The skin is slippery with the saliva Dean's let escape, and he's able to easily rub against Sam's perineum, and then move back to rub over his pucker as well.

Pressing against the tight muscle just enough to feel is give a little, Dean swallows harder and faster around Sam's cock. Sam suddenly lets out a loud shout, thrusts his hips forward, and starts shooting his release down Dean's throat.

Pulling back a little so he can enjoy the taste, Dean revels in the thick feel of it, the heat of it as it lands on his tongue. He swallows as fast as he can, not wanting any to be lost. He keeps sucking as Sam softens, until he's sure he's swallowed every drop Sam has to offer.

Dean pulls all the way off, including his supporting arm on Sam's abdomen, and Sam slides down the wall until he's sitting on the floor. Or, at least Dean is pretty sure that's what's happening, based on the sounds. Reaching out carefully, Dean connects with Sam's shoulder. Feeling down Sam's arms, Dean encounters the shirts, and he helps Sam pull them back up.

Leaning forward slowly, Dean's lips brush the bridge of Sam's nose. Skimming his lips over Sam's face, Dean presses kisses to his cheeks, both eyelids, his forehead, and then glides down to Sam's jawline and kisses from one ear to the other. "Missed this, Sammy. Missed feeling you, missed tasting you, missed exploring you. Just...missed you."

Sam's arms encircle him, and he pulls Dean closer, pressing his lips to the top of Dean's head, and then laying a cheek on the same spot. "Yeah. Me, too. Missed this. Missed connecting with you."

After a couple of minutes of the closeness, Dean starts to shift restlessly. His cock is still brutally hard behind his zipper. Working by feel, Dean presses a hard kiss to Sam's lips. "I'm not done with you yet. I want you on your knees, braced on your forearms, ass in the air."

"Dean? Didn't you..."

"No. But, I'm going to."

"Shouldn't we...get undressed."

"Not a good idea, Sam." Dean doesn't want to mention the darkness again, or mention that they would have a hard time finding the clothes again, let alone the right ones. Doesn't want to bring up the possibility of Bobby opening the door and finding them undressed.

He can tell when Sam gets it by the tightening of the shoulders under his hands, and the sound of the swiftly indrawn breath. Not letting Sam dwell on it, he pushes at his brother, manhandling him into turning over and getting into position.

Dean pauses, both hands on Sam's ass, and really wishes he could see right now. He'd love to let his eyes trail over Sam, tracing the muscles with his gaze, following the line of Sam's body down to his ass, staring at his shadowed cleft and the enticing entrance to Sam's body. Dean would stare long enough for Sam to get impatient and--

"Dean? What's taking so long? Do something already. I have to feel you. Want to feel you in me. Filling me. It's been so long."

Never one to disappoint or deny his brother, Dean digs his fingers in to the rounded globes of Sam's ass and pulls them apart. Bending closer, Dean licks a stripe between the cheeks he's holding open.

"Fuck!"

Sam shivers and bucks in his grasp. Dean hadn't been planning on doing more than that one lick, but Sam's reaction... Getting into a more comfortable position, Dean licks out again, moving his tongue at a snail's pace over his brother until he feels the wrinkled skin of his pucker.

Using just the tip of his tongue, Dean leisurely explores every ridge and shallow valley around the rim of Sam's ass. When he's gone all the way around, he dips his thumbs down and uses them to stretch the tight muscle open just a little. Enough for him to move his tongue just past the surface.

"Dean! God, you...I can't...that feels...oh, fuck!"

Loving that he can reduce his brother to incoherent babbling, Dean pushes his tongue in as far as he can, and then starts moving it lazily in and out. His own cock is demanding attention, but Dean does his best to sublimate his own needs by focusing on his brother.

Using his thumbs to caress the sensitive outer skin of Sam's rim, Dean continues to fuck his tongue in and out, swirling it around the best he can. The skin around the area is getting slick and slippery, and the muscle is loosening making it easier for Dean to move his tongue.

Sam keeps whining and trying to push back into Dean, but Dean keeps him still, wanting to drive Sam crazy, get him hard again. The muscle of Sam's hole is much looser now, so Dean lets his thumbs travel further down to Sam's perineum, rubbing against it at the same lazy pace that his tongue moves inside him.

Sam shouts and bucks back, and Dean takes that as his cue to pull away. He's breathing hard himself and shaking with desire. Digging a hand into his pocket, he pulls out the small tube of lube he always carries, and slicks his fingers. One finger glides in easily, with no resistance, so Dean adds another.

It's getting harder to keep the pace slow, but Dean ignores the clamoring of his own body and determinedly continues with the unhurried rhythm he'd started with. Scissoring his fingers as he moves them, Dean adds a third when Sam feels lose enough.

Twisting and turning them inside makes Sam cry out and start thrusting back, impaling himself deeper. Dean moves his fingers around, so he can slip the thumb from his other hand in, too. He moves it in counterpoint to his others, until Sam's whole body is shuddering.

In spite of the chill in the metal room, sweat has broken out on both of their bodies. So when Dean pulls his fingers free and opens his pants, pushing them down to his bent knees, he shivers as the cold air hits his overheated skin.

Slicking himself up makes Dean forget all about the chill, as he has to struggle not to come from the feeling of his hand on his engorged cock. Taking several deep breaths for control, Dean pushes forward and grunts in surprise at the easy glide in. He prepared Sam better than he thought.

Sam starts thrusting his ass back, but Dean plants a hand on his lower back and pushes down, stopping Sam's movement. All his instincts are screaming at him to move hard and fast, but he keeps his pace unhurried.

Sweat drips down his face as he glides in and out, and he can feel the moisture on Sam's skin as Dean's hands roam around his brother's body. He caresses down Sam's thighs, and then up to cup his ass.

He dips his thumbs between Sam's cheeks again and presses them to the stretched skin around his thrusting cock. Both he and Sam groan at the feel, and Dean speeds up just a little.

Reaching around Sam's hips, Dean's hand bumps into his brother's hard cock. Wrapping his hand around it, he starts pumping it with the same slow rhythm he's using in Sam's ass. His bother's erection is just as hard as it had been when Dean had his mouth on it, and it's leaking even more. Between that and the lube still on his hand, the glide is easy and smooth.

Using his other hand to reach around Sam's chest, Dean pulls him upright, changing the angle so he cock slides over that special spot inside his brother on every thrust in and out. When he determines exactly where it is, Dean's thrusts grow more shallow so he can rock back and forth over that spot.

Sam whimpers and reaches around, grasping Dean's hips. "Please, Dean. Please. Oh, God. Please."

Brushing a kiss along the back of Sam's neck, Dean takes a shuddering breath for control at the pleading note in his brother's voice. "Please what, baby brother? What do you want?"

Sam's hands tighten on Dean's hips, trying to pull him closer, but Dean resists, keeping to the pace he'd set. "I want to come. Please, Dean."

Pressing his forehead between Sam's shoulder blades, Dean struggles to not come at the wrecked sound of his brother's voice. "We're getting there, Sammy. Just like this is how you're going to come for me. When you do come, you'll squeeze so tight around me, and I won't be able to hold back anymore. I'll fill you up with so much of my come, that it'll be leaking out of you for the rest of the night."

Sam's answering moan makes lust surge through Dean, and he gasps out loud. Dean's starting to feel the strain of the slow pace he's set. His arms around Sam are trembling, and his legs are aching because of the angle he's holding himself at to hit Sam's prostate. He hasn't felt this alive in months.

In spite of the aches, Dean hates for it to end. He keeps up the leisurely pace he's set for as long as possible, but after a few more minutes, has to admit defeat. Because past the strain, he's so turned on right now, that he knows he can't last much longer. His balls have drawn up as far as they can go, his dick is throbbing so hard inside Sam that its just barely on the pleasure side of painful, and desire is molten hot in his belly.

Moving his head, Dean closes his mouth around the skin under Sam's ear and sucks up a mark. At the same time, he rubs his thumb over the slippery head of Sam's cock, and pushes his own cock all the way in, filling Sam as deeply as he can. "C'mon, Sammy. Come for me, right now!"

"Dean!"

Sam's body starts shaking, and then he goes rigid in Dean's arms. Dean can feel Sam's cock surging, and a thick wetness covers his hand. Just as he predicted, Sam clamps down around Dean's cock, and Dean can't hold back anymore. Going rigid himself, Dean finally lets his control go, and pulse after pulse jets out, filling his brother with his come.

As soon as the last pulse leaves his body, Dean sags as if he's a marionette who'e strings have been cut. Dean is all that had been keeping Sam upright, so when Dean goes limp, they both collapse to the floor.

After several minutes of lying where they'd fallen, Dean partially on top of Sam, Sam turns onto his back and wraps his arms around his brother, pulling him closer. "God, Dean. I've missed that. Missed you."

Dean thinks about mentioning how that had been Sam's choice, that he'd been right where Sam had told him to go, but decided to hold his tongue. For now. Trying to think about what to say instead, he feels Sam's eyelashes brushing the skin at the crook of his neck. Which means... "Why are your eyes open? I don't want you freaking out again. I don't think I have another of those in me tonight."

A puff of breath hits his neck as Sam laughs softly, and Dean shivers as the warmth of it spreads over his still moist skin. "I don't think I have the energy left to panic. Also, before I started to freak, I knew you were here, but that knowledge was only in my head. You've made sure that every part of me now knows you're here. I'm sore in places I haven't been sore in for over a year, and the whole room now smells like us. Not to mention, you reminded my heart of what my head forgot - you've always got my back."

"Well, I, uh..." Dean stops to clear his throat, not wanting to let Sam know how much his words have affected him. When he's more certain of his voice, he pulls back and thumps Sam's nearest arm. "Of course I've always got your back, just like you'll always have mine. Right?"

Dean huffs and settles back down. Soon, they'll have to move apart so they can straighten out their clothes and try and clean up a little. For now though, Dean plans on enjoying the closeness he and his brother haven't shared in so long.

Caught up in those thoughts, Dean doesn't notice that Sam only pulls him closer and doesn't answer his question.


End file.
